NYE 2017 – Reflections

Posted on by SingleRheum

I was trying to find a theme or quote that represented what 2017 has meant for me to use as a starting point, but nothing seemed quite the right thing. I know New Years Eve tends to bring us bloggers out of the woodwork, I think it’s the creative urge to somehow capture where we’ve been, and perhaps plot where we want to go. Combined with the creative muse that won’t let us know what the next sentence is until we write it.

My year has above all been a catalyst for change, and wending through it has been a series of lessons I hope I’ve learned from. I think I’m a better person than I was twelve months ago, and I hope in twelve months time I can say the same again and mean it as fully as I do now. There’s a lovely aboriginal proverb that says “”We are all visitors to this time, this place. We are just passing through. Our purpose here is to observe, to learn, to grow, to love… And then we return home.”

I have, with the support of some wonderful people, finally discovered the real Joy of Now. Not the superficial trimmings of mindfulness that is pushed by mainstream media, but the real living in the moment stuff. It’s mind altering. Life changing. And it’s so amazing! But I wouldn’t have been ready for this had it happened earlier in my life, I firmly believe that we have to become open and ready to welcome in the new and let go of the old, and do this with with self love and self compassion. Even when it’s as challenging as f*ck. Which it often is.

So how did I get here? I am forever grateful to Demi Schneider my wonderful therapist, who helped me become ready to open these doors almost two years ago now by teaching me how to love myself fully. To Ruby Wax whose fabulous book “A Mindfulness Guide for the Frazzled” gave my logical brain the understanding it needed of what was going on in my head and how to start rewiring those neural pathways. To the wonderful Calm app which helped me start meditating and sleeping again. To the beautiful Essia for leading me to The Now Project. And to Adrian from the Now Project who held my hand (literally & metaphorically) through one of the darkest hours of my life. And to the whole Now Project Team for just being here.

Does that give you a glimpse of how it all fits? How what seems random and disparate is beautifully interconnected. The Universe guides us to where we need to be even when we have no clue what we need. We can’t rush it, things will happen when they are supposed to. All we need do is live, right now.

For those that don’t know I was diagnosed with a serious lung condition in June, which at the time was believed to be terminal. It wasn’t a shock to me as I’d been expecting it for months, but even so it was definitely one of life’s “oh shit” moments. Thankfully I already had mindfulness and meditation in my life, without either I know I would have spiralled back into severe depression.

And here’s where synchronicity comes in. I attended my first retreat with the Now Project the day after I had this news. (See, I did have a point!) That evening during our informal meet and greet we were asked what we hoped to get from this weekend. As I listened to the others share a voice in my head (mine, of course) suddenly shouted “Nothing, I’m going to die, you can’t help me” In that moment everyone and everything else seemed trivial. Knowing I was about to either sob or scream I quietly left the room.

I went outside and sat under a beautiful willow, looking over the fields in front of the house. And I sobbed my heart out. Until gradually I realised I was watching the midges dance in the twilight. Above them Swifts circled and dove, catching their evening supper. And I found a measure of peace, my feet bare against the grass, grounded in nature.

Of course when someone came to see if I was okay I melted again. And Adrian, a complete stranger to me, sat with me for nearly an hour. Holding my hands. Bringing me back to my breath continually. And that is when I finally understood that we only ever have Now. None of us are guaranteed tomorrow. Nothing else is real. Catalyst.

I’m incredibly grateful to say that further testing has (at least for now) ruled out any significant impact on my life expectancy. I have Interstitial Lung Disease caused by RA, which in turn causes a lot of breathing issues, but they are manageable by moving slowly. I’ve also been formally diagnosed with ME this year, so fatigue impacts my pace too. And that helps me continue to live in the moment.

So in simple terms facing my own mortality brought me deep joy. I know I’m not the first or last to say this. And others will walk different paths. The one thing we’ll have in common is that realisation of just how essential it is to live Now. Not today or next week or next year – they don’t exist. When we combine that with real love for ourselves exactly as we are we become invincible. Even death holds no fear because it’s just another step towards enlightenment.

It’s quarter to midnight on New Years Eve 2017, the moon is bright and full. I have candles burning gently and the enchanting music of Deva Prema playing in the background. All is well right Now.

Wishing you all a blessed 2018.
Dee 💙

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Excuse me, I’m Dormant…

Posted on by SingleRheum

I sort of feel I should start by apologising for being so quiet recently, especially with blogging, but the spoons have been really low for a couple of months. I feel the balance is tipping towards more ‘bad’ days than ‘good’. I dislike using those terms as they feel like I’m judging, I’ve hit the trusty thesaurus, how do dormant days and wakeful days sound?

The definition of dormant seems particularly apt – adjective: dormant (of an animal) having normal physical functions suspended or slowed down for a period of time; in or as if in a deep sleep

That accurately sums up about 40% of my time. Maybe more. At the moment I feel like I’ve hit a medical stalemate – another great word – any position or situation in which no action can be taken or progress made.

I saw my GP (who is fab) on Friday, we ran through a few symptoms where her answers were, not unreasonably, that there’s nothing that can be done. Of course if a,b, or c get worse let her know, if not do my best to continue to live around them. She has the option to refer me back into the hospital Fatigue Management team so to keep that in mind for the future.

FYI I’m not being ignored, I have ongoing support from Thoracic (lungs), Rheumatology (joints & lungs), and Orthopaedics (spinal surgery, sciatica) as well as my GP.

But none of these stop me doing this. Sleeping for 16, 18, 20 hours at a time. I track my sleep now because I’m not sure people believe me, but I’m genuinely out for the count, I don’t wake to pee, drink or eat, and a bomb could go off without me stirring. Usually after a sleep like this I wake but can barely move, it takes everything I have to stay upright just to make a coffee and maybe toast. It’s like the worst flu feeling quadrupled. I literally stagger to the kitchen and back, almost on my knees.

And every time within two hours I’m passing out again. I use passing out deliberately because that’s exactly what it feels like, it’s almost as if I can feel my body shutting down, to quote the Borg “resistance is futile”. I spend approx two to three days a week like this.

To be clear here I’ve been diagnosed with RA, Fibromyalgia, ME/CFS, and RA-ILD (Interstitial Lung Disease). All of which will be contributing to this dreadful fatigue, though my suspicion is this is much more ME than the others. I’ve attended pain management sessions and fatigue management sessions which mostly revolve around pacing and CBT. Unfortunately as anyone with ME knows the use of CBT as a tool to improve fatigue has been totally discredited. And pacing just doesn’t work.

Pacing is actually a very simple technique. One monitors one’s activity and fatigue levels for a few weeks on a chart, then you calculate an energy ‘baseline’. So let’s say the average day allows you three hours of low activity. You plan around this and you slowly work on building up. Sadly this model assumes a number of modes of behaviour are manageble for the patient – such as getting up at the same time every day, sleeping for the requisite number of hours per night, ceasing to nap during the day, and that after sleep one feels refreshed.

None of this applies in my case. When I mentioned to the fatigue team that I can spend two or three days a week sleeping (dormant) they told me this “wasn’t usual” for ME. I thank the stars for the Internet, there is a lively community online who very quickly taught me I’m not alone, and I’m definitely not an aberration. In fact I’m fortunate, there are people with ME who’ve not left their beds for years.

I can sleep four hours or twenty, I never wake feeling refreshed. I can’t choose to not nap when I can be awake and say, reading one minute and the next it’s six hours later. Yes, my internal nap monitor is screwed too, it’s never just twenty minutes! I can’t work to a normal “sleep pattern”, when I’m dormant I not only sleep through alarms, I’ve slept through my cleaner coming and going, and a few weeks ago just crashed on the sofa whilst a friend was building me a walk in closet, thankfully he understood as his mum has ME so he finished quietly and tiptoed away. Bless him.

But I think these examples clearly show this is not down to me giving in or not trying. I don’t see anywhere to go from here clinically. So my only realistic option is to continue to flex and enjoy my Awake around my Dormant.

Yes this makes planning difficult. There are hospital appointments I’ve had to reschedule, blood tests I’ve missed. More important to my sense of engagement with life is the birthdays, the weddings, the lunches and the family events I’ve missed. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt guilty for these, I know now I have to listen to my body, but it still saddens me to have to cancel.

Is this difficult to live with? Yes of course, saying otherwise would be disingenuous. I think anyone faced with the reality of losing maybe three or four days a week, every week, for the rest of their life would be floored. I think the blessing here for me is that this hasn’t been a sudden notification, it’s happened gradually over the past few years and whilst I’ve railed and wept I’ve also become accustomed to these limitations being my life.

It’s just that this conversation on Friday finally drove home that this is here to stay. There is no magic pill or potion, therapy or faith that will make this change. Stalemate.

And so comes acceptance. So I will continue to try to see my dormant days as necessary recharging, to allow my wakeful days to happen. I will continue to try every day to find both gratitude and joy in my world. I will continue to use my toolbox containing items as random as meditation and tramadol, heating pads, mindfulness and antidepressants. And I will continue to find my joy in the smallest and often unlikeliest of places. Eyes wide open.

Namaste 🕉️

Things I wish I’d known.. 

Posted on by SingleRheum

What do I wish I had known at diagnosis? This started out as a short response to a seemingly simple question and ended up here, I guess I always figure why use ten words when you can use hundreds!

1. That there is a fantastic, amazing and committed online support community. That these strangers would become my home, my family, my friends. There is an amazing bunch of people out there, living #chroniclife just as I do, and they are all passionate about providing support, information, safe places to chat and vent, and somewhere to go at 3am when the regular world is asleep.

2. That getting the diagnosis is not the end, it’s the beginning. Just after I very first joined a wise RA’er told me that this is a marathon, not a sprint. Three years later I get it.

3. To take all the RA stuff seriously, but learn to laugh at it at the same time. It’s very easy to get bogged down under it all, so spot the funny moments and treasure them, they do help! (Getting stuck in a hotel bath springs to mind!)

4. That everyone’s RA is different. There are similarities within recognised parameters, but you may suffer some things badly and others not at all. That doesn’t make you odd or weird, we all feel this differently
5. That #selfcare is the single most important thing you’ll learn to do. You can’t pour from an empty bucket, so look after you properly, then you can be there for others. Putting even family before yourself is a mistake, I always think of the airplane oxygen rule, you first, children next.

6. That it’s perfectly possible to have even severe RA and live your life with love and joy and hope. You’ll find your way, and there are others who are here to help, always.

7. That it’s OK to scream and rant and rave and be angry too. We all do it, venting is welcome! Letting off steam occasionally is I believe an essential part of processing and accepting your diagnosis

8. That no one can tell you how a medication will work for you. Not your rheumy, not your doctor and not us. Unfortunately RA treatment is trial and error – many people hit their magic med first or second time and probably never join online groups because they don’t need them. Others will have meds fail them over and over, or provoke allergic reactions. The only way to know what will work for you is to try it with your rheumys support and guidance.

9. That you will find your way through this. You’ll learn how your RA behaves, what helps and what doesn’t, when you need to rest and when you need to work through. It’s not a quick or easy process, but I promise you will get there 💙

RA & Lung Disease, or my struggle for breath

Posted on by SingleRheum

Firstly my apologies for sneaking in a wildcard at the end of RA Blog Week, but I’ve been suffering badly with fatigue which is unfortunately not conducive to blogging!

It’s been a long year already, and it’s left me a little tired. Let me take you back almost 12 months….

October 1st last year I started coughing. An irritating dry cough that was constantly annoying. By the beginning of December my GP ordered a chest xray ‘just to cover all bases’ and prescribed a steroid inhaler to help with the cough, which we thought might be Bronchitis.

Around Xmas I started getting breathless on exertion, and over the next few weeks this got worse. My xray came back showing ‘some scarring’. I’ll cut a long story a little shorter here but over the next few months I had a number of attempts at spirometry tests which failed as I coughed too much, though they did indicate a restrictive breathing pattern. At this point I was referred into the hospital, and after more detailed HRCT scans, Fleuroscopy, a bout of pneumonia and extensive lung function tests it became apparent that the RA has attacked my lungs.

In the last meeting with my thoracic consultant I got to see the scans, including a short “video” of my lungs breathing. It’s fascinating to see, you know me and wanting the fine detail! What it’s also shown is that on top of the lung damage – which is very likely from the RA – my right hemidiagphram is significantly elevated, though still thankfully working. The diaphragm is essentially the muscle that moves your lungs when your brain says breathe.

I’m saying it looks like RA damage because the jury is still out, there’s still a small chance it could be pulmonary fibrosis and not interstitial lung disease – further tests will keep an eye on progression of the lung damage and help identify the cause.

But essentially parts of my lungs have become inflamed, and then hardened, reducing my lung capacity and making it harder to breathe. On top of that the raised hemidiagphram is squashing the bottom of my right lung which just increases the breathlessness. We don’t know why that’s elevated so investigation is needed there too.

There is no fix, no cure. Lung tissue can’t be repaired. At the moment my consultant doesn’t feel this will significantly shorten my life, but we all know life don’t come with guarantees. I’m not being negative here, just sharing the facts as they’ve been put to me.

Unfortunately whether I live another four years or forty, I will have to live with this constant breathlessness. It was particularly difficult the first few days here in Cyprus as my lungs struggled with the hot air, making breathing incredibly hard even on mild exertion. This has now eased somewhat, hopefully in part due to the new inhaler I’m on.

But daily life has become that much harder. What makes me breathless? Making a coffee. Having a shower. Getting dressed. Turning over in bed. Walking short distances on crutches. Cooking. Basically everything. I’m also increasingly tired, probably due to low oxygen saturation levels which are being monitored, but on top of ME/CFS this has been a big drain on my already limited energy. I’m slowly learning to take pacing activity to the nth degree, quite literally tiny baby steps.

There have been moments when this has been very scary, but I’ve come to realise it’s almost like starting over again with a new chronic illness. Except this time I’m better prepared. I don’t need to slog through the ups and downs of adjusting mentally because I’ve been there. I’m certainly not willing to allow – or even in a place where – this can knock me down.

So, both mentally and physically I take those baby steps forward. I still meditate regularly, practice mindfulness and gratitude daily and these help keep me sane (ish!). In all seriousness without these I’d have been floored by yet another chronic health issue, but living in the now definitely reduces stress reactions. I’ve had my moments believe me, but they’ve been mostly manageable.

I think it’s important to remember that as with my first diagnosis of RA, this isn’t an end but the start of a new, slightly tougher path. And with the support of some amazing friends and family I can learn to live with this too.

Please remember as always nothing on my page is intended as medical advice and any errors are my own!

Acceptance is….

Posted on by SingleRheum

I was asked a question recently by a newly diagnosed young lady in her early twenties. She wanted to know how to find a way of living with RA – she was already in a lot of pain and her RA was quite severe which had her worried about her future. I was really touched that she felt able to ask me, and I was pondering what to say when it hit me – how blessed was I that RA didn’t raise its head until I was in my forties! I can’t even imagine how horrid it would have been to have found myself in these shoes at a younger age, when you’re still finding out who you are, what you think and where you want to be (Not saying I have those down now, but I worry about them much less!).

My initial thoughts were around Acceptance, as it’s been the key for me in finding a way to live alongside my illness. But how do you explain that to someone young and newly diagnosed? Someone who is upset, scared, angry and confused. “Just accept it, you’ll be fine” is not going to cut the mustard. So this is a much longer (and more edited) version of my reply to her, which I really hope might help not just the young and newly diagnosed but the older (!) ones amongst us finding chronic life the emotional as well as physical rollercoaster it often is. So, Acceptance.

Where to start? Meaning? Let’s give this some context. Chambers English says to accept in this sense is to tolerate, to take on board. Not exactly cheering words. I know people often see acceptance as giving in or giving up, and it’s certainly not that for me. Acceptance doesn’t mean stopping researching treatment options, chasing doctors or not eating healthily. Let me digress for a moment – often in chronic life Elisabeth Kubler-Ross’ seven stages of grief are referred to. Originally published in her book ‘On Death and Dying’ it was soon realised that it’s a really useful tool for understanding grief in any form, including grief for what and who we were after significant life changes. Diagnosis with a chronic condition certainly fits into that category. It helps us validate what we’re feeling as well as letting us know we’re not crazy, and we’re not alone.

The stages are usually described as Shock or Disbelief, Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Guilt, Depression and Acceptance. You can see a good explanation of those stages here, but I will just note that these are not linear, it’s common to jump back and forth between all of them, we process these in our own time. So whilst Acceptance is listed last, it doesn’t mean you have to cycle through the others first, although in all honesty it’s likely you will. It’s perfectly possible to go from depression to anger to bargaining and back to anger again, and it’s likely you’ll do it more than once. And that’s absolutely fine; there is no “right way” to grieve. Be kind to yourself, this is a lot to deal with.

It’s often a long road and I certainly didn’t get here overnight. Believe me I’ve ranted, railed, been depressed, had severe anxiety attacks, not wanted to go on, screamed why me – the whole box of tricks. I’m sure this shows in my earlier blogs! Acceptance is a tough thing to do with a chronic illness, but it’s such an important step, as it can bring us to a place of peace with our illness. Anger in particular is very wearing to carry daily, and hurts us emotionally.

You’ll need to find your own path to peace, no-one can do it for you. For me it’s been psychotherapy, leading to meditation and spirituality, alongside antidepressants and some great support from friends. For others it’s religion, counselling, psychology, support groups, medication, and sometimes just having a good scream! All of these are great tools. But I promise you too can make your peace with this.

Acceptance – to tolerate? So, eventually I’m back on track! Toleration suggests a kind of grudging version of putting up with, like your illness is an albatross around your neck. For me it’s much more profound and much simpler. Acceptance means non judgement. It means I stop attaching emotions to my illness. I accept it just is. Like a table or a chair, it exists, but I don’t have to feel anything about it. It’s not evil or bad or personal, and it’s not something I need to fight with or be angry at. Who has the energy for that?! Using mindfulness has made me much more aware of what I’m thinking, and if I find my thoughts are drifting towards anger or guilt I just return to my breath, and I remind myself they’re simply not helpful.

Acceptance takes work, it takes practice. It’s not easy, it means changing the way we think. Of course chronic illness has had a massive impact on my life, there are many things I’ve lost, so it’s important we choose where we focus. I’m fortunate; there are also so many things I’ve gained, including a fabulous support community across social media. I choose daily to focus on the good.

We all know things will change, chronic life throws us new symptoms and challenges frequently and I’ve found that if I try to accept and roll with these rather than fight them my life becomes calmer. Does it work every hour of every day? Nope, I still have anxiety triggers and a recent new diagnosis had me reeling for a few days. But previously that would have sent me down the rabbit hole for weeks if not months, so I call that a win.

Life is precious and there are no guarantees for anyone, so certainly for me the best thing to do is enjoy every moment. Really enjoy it. Even on the worst of days we have choices about what we focus on and how we think. So on my less easy days I’m really grateful that friends drop shopping off and I have a warm bed. On better days just sitting outside and feeling the sun on my face or the breeze on my skin reminds me I’m alive, and I make a conscious choice to be happy.

Love Is All

Posted on by SingleRheum

A very beautiful & treasured friend of mine has lost her husband suddenly & so unexpectedly. I am stunned, and I am so sorry for her and her family’s heartbreaking loss.

I just wanted to take a moment to say please hold your loved ones close. Then hold them closer.

Make the words I love you the most common ones you use, and mean it. It is not a cliché to say not a single one of us are guaranteed tomorrow.

Make your loved ones your only priority. Forget the extra shift at work, it’s so damned unimportant. Forget who put the trash out last, who cares? Hold hands, dance together, sing together, scream together, spend time with each other.

Talk about inconsequential things whilst looking at the night sky, talk about the important stuff whilst looking into their eyes. Smile in the rain, laugh in the face of storms. Time is the most precious gift we ever give to others, and it’s so fleeting.

Make your moments count, fill them with laughter, make memories. Remember this means all of those you love, not only partners and children and parents, but the family we choose for ourselves, our friends.

Don’t put off that lunch date, or keep forgetting to make that call while time slips through your hands like water. Love with all of your heart as fiercely and as loudly as you can, because when it comes down to what’s real it’s all that matters.

Love is everything. Namaste 💙

Being Positive? Stuff it! 

Posted on by SingleRheum

I’ve been thinking about language and the power of words. Mostly about the words positive & negative which crop up lots on chronic health forums. And you know what? I really dislike them. It’s the conversational equivalent of black and white, and the world just isn’t like that.

They also imply that we choose to be positive or negative, and that just by saying “today I will be” some magic happens and we become one or other. Simply not true, if only it was that easy.

I honestly don’t believe people are one or the other, I think we’re often both with varied shades of grey in between. And that’s fine. It’s perfectly normal to feel sad because the budgie died but happy because it’s not raining. Life does that. It’s how we cope with these moments and move on from them that define us.

Trying to be positive is a route to failure. In the same way that trying to be negative is. Because they both focus on ‘trying’, and that’s not authentic. Either is also incredibly draining, both for ourselves and those around us. Spend half an hour with someone who constantly complains about the raw deal life has dealt them and you’ll come away drained. Spend the same amount of time with someone who is forcing themselves to be positive and look on the bright side and it’s just as draining.

This is because they’re counting on your responses to feed their energy. Unknowing of what they’re doing they slowly bleed you dry.

Answer? Stop ‘trying’ and just be. Stop, take a look around you, the world is a beautiful place, full of wonder. If you’ve forgotten how spend half an hour with a young child, they’ll show you the magic of sunshine and trees and dogs and laughter.

And among these shades of grey is where you find happy. Where you’re in pain and can’t move but the cat comes for a cuddle. When your energy is so low you can’t get dressed so your friend comes to you for a coffee instead. Sunsets, birdsong, a light breeze, blooming flowers, scented candles, decent music, great coffee. All things we can notice and enjoy every single day.

So put aside the whole +/- mindset, it’s fake and unhelpful. If you’ve ever had someone cheerily say to you “remember to stay positive” you know just how unhelpful. Instead allow yourself to feel happy whenever you can instead. Right now I’m in bloody agony, my fibro is flaring and even my skin hurts. But I can still be happy, I have TV to distract me, a comfy sofa and a snuggly blanket. And one of the cats is snoring bless her!

On balance life is good. Don’t waste it reaching for how society thinks you should be, don’t let your illness live it for you, and make sure you constantly look for the small stuff, see the magic!

Reach Out – A Plea 

Posted on by SingleRheum

It’s sadly ten years ago this week I lost my younger sister Mary to suicide. I’ve written this as a plea to anyone who is feeling this low, please reach out, to someone, anyone.  You are not alone. You matter, we all matter. Please make the call that she was sadly unable to.  Namaste 🕉️

UK Samaritans is a free call on 116 123
USA Samaritans is a free call on 1 (800) 273-TALK
Australia Samaritans is a free call on 135 247 

Choosing to be happy… 

Posted on by SingleRheum

I was reading an interesting thread on twitter this morning and it emphasised something I’ve noticed online over the last few weeks. First I’ll give an example – this particular thread had asked the question of disabled people “With optimal support how different would your life be?”

The answers fell into two distinct categories, either “I’d write/study/move house/volunteer” or “I can’t imagine this / I don’t have the energy to think about this”. Now you could say perhaps some of the responders were more physically impaired by their disability, or that they deal with more debilitating symptoms. But having been noticing this for a while now I don’t believe this to be the case.

We can all choose how we think about something. And making that conscious choice has a huge effect on how we subsequently feel. Bear with me here – if you’d have told me this a few short years ago I’d probably have become defensive or angry and felt you were criticising my thought process. It’s only due to some great therapy and a lot of reading that I’ve been able to reach a point in my life where I’m thankfully able to make conscious decisions about what I think.

The impact this has had on me has been so positive. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a cure for my depression and anxiety, I’m still taking my pills and have days where it’s darker. What it has done is given me coping techniques to deal with those days without them turning into months every time.

In simple terms only WE are responsible for what we think. Yes, that inner voice is us too. It’s our head, our thoughts, our responsibility! And we make subconscious choices about what we think, how we react to things, how we will respond. So why not make those choices concious?

Let’s use my Saturday as an example. I woke around 11am, did the usual coffee/bathroom/clothing stuff then went to meet some friends in my local for coffee. I was there for about three hours, sitting down, chatting, crosswording and laughing. Then I went home and crawled into bed, took a double shot of painkillers and didn’t move again for six hours. This is fairly standard. Activity = pain + fatigue.

I could quite justifiably feel angry about this. It’s not fair, other people don’t have to pay for socialising, why can’t my meds work, why did I get this stupid disease, why am I so useless, I’m no good to anyone, my life is crap.

It’s an easy trap to fall into, I know because I’ve been there. But it leads down a very rocky path to anger, self pity, self hatred, and a feeling of total worthlessness. We convince ourselves we have no value. And that’s a self limiting belief, because we withdraw and huddle at home feeling sorry for ourselves, which means we don’t see anyone, which means they all hate us because we’re worthless. It’s a horrible lonely and despairing place to be.

But…! We have the power to change these thoughts. One day at a time, one belief at a time. There’s no magic trick or quick fix, it takes practice, and dedication. Which to be honest are small prices to pay for feeling better about yourself, right?

So Saturday night, laid up in bed. Was I angry, sad, feeling sorry for myself? Nope, not even close. Was I slightly peeved about the pain? You bet, but that’s as far as it went.

  • Rather than being angry I could only stay out for a few hours and then had to suffer I was grateful for the lovely afternoon I’d had catching up with friends
  • Rather than thinking my life is so awful I was thanking the universe for what I had – pain relief, a warm bed, heated blanket.
  • Rather than thinking I was worthless for not spending more time with friends I acknowledged that they love me, and enjoy spending time with me. And I’m very grateful for that gift.

I think the most impactful thing I’ve learned has been to practice self-love and gratitude. Both are simple concepts. Accepting yourself, and loving the unique person you are will be the most important thing you ever do for yourself. And practising gratitude daily is such an easy habit.

Start by listing three things a day. They could be time with friends, a nice lunch, a sunny day. And some days they’ll be bed, sleep, food. But you’ll find you start appreciating the small stuff, and realising it’s really the important stuff. Ever thought about why small children are so delighted by every little thing, so quick to laugh, to smile? They have no learned pattern of negative thoughts, they literally live in the moment.

So next time you’re about to tell the world how dreadful your life is, stop for a moment and watch what you’re thinking. There’s probably a jumble of negative thoughts whirring round all reinforcing your poor opinion of your life. So acknowledge them, and then let them go. Take a minute to think of what’s good about today. Toast, pyjamas, slippers? Great, that’s a start. Aren’t you glad you have them? ☺️

Honestly, give it a try. It is possible to choose to find the joy in your life rather than focus on the pain, and the outcome is you’ll start feeling happier. That’s what I call a win. Namaste 🕉️💙

Friendship & Chronic Life 

Posted on by SingleRheum

Previously published through Creaky Joints 

I was mentally restored by spending a few hours with two close friends last night. I’d had a stressful few days health wise which was exacerbated by an “unhelpful” medical appointment, leaving me spinning. I was off kilter, out of sorts, upset, angry, anxious, emotional and irrational. Yes, all in a couple of days! 

By the time I came home from a glass of wine, a lovely meal and most importantly the company of S&S I was feeling calm, centred, strong, rational and buzzing with ideas to resolve my problem. I feel this is the most beautiful thing good friends provide, they love you and fill you with energy. 

To me friendships are the most important and honest relationships we ever have. Family is wonderful when it works, but we all know that you can’t choose your relations! For want of a better word ‘mates’ or companions are fabulous and great for an afternoon of chat but not necessarily for baring your soul. Marriage has its own complications!

Yet making friends is quite a random process really, we meet someone, perhaps initially think they are interesting or kind or share a common ground, and from that somehow evolve into this incredibly trusting symbiosis. 

We aren’t consciously aware of doing so, but we must make a lot of tiny judgements about people who become our friends in the early days of knowing them. The dictionary defines a friend as ‘a person with whom one has a bond of mutual affection’ but I feel the word symbiosis comes closer – ‘a mutually beneficial relationship between different people’.

Initially that sounds a little formal, but add in the ‘mutual affection’ of friends and you have a beautiful symbiotic relationship. Yes, it’s about give and take, but of the intangible kind. You don’t look at a stranger and think they’ll be supportive at 3am when the dog is sick, or decide they’d be a great hospital visitor. You can’t tell at first that this person will be the one to make you laugh until you cry when you miss the train or forgot your in laws are coming for dinner. 

Keeping friendships going when you have a chronic condition can be tough, and making new friends can be harder, especially for those of us with a chronic illness but in my book it’s well worth the investment of spoons.
I’m blessed and I know it. I have a few close girlfriends who I adore. I’ve collected them over the years from various places, and they all have one thing in common. 

They didn’t run. They didn’t decide I was too sick or too needy or too boring or unreliable once I became ill. They don’t complain when I cancel last minute, they just reschedule. They post chocolates through my door at random times. They answer messages at night when I haven’t got the energy to chat but need to sense check my thinking about how ill I’m feeling or if I’m a little low. They’ve even cancelled work to sit with me on bad days.  They arrange a lunch with me for their birthday because they know I won’t make it out at night for drinks. 

They are also incredibly honest, and will happily tell me I’m being a muppet if needed! But most of all they lift me. They help me be the best version of who I can be. Their faith in me reflects my faith in them. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without these beautiful strong, intelligent women in my life, and I’m blessed that I don’t need to find out. 

I sadly all to often see people, chronically ill people, those with RA and Fibromyalgia and ME and MS saying just how lonely and  isolated they’ve become, particularly for those who’ve had to give up working. They’ve almost lost contact with the outside world, friends have drifted away following repeat cancellations, people stop asking them out because they can’t guarantee being there. 

Or they’ve fallen out with friends over well meaning but ill-thought advice. It’s difficult to remember people are only being kind, especially when you’re in a lot of pain and then you don’t feel friends understand so sadly all too often it creates a space between them that neither knows how to fill. 

So what have I done differently? I’m not sure I have a magic solution. I’ve perhaps just been lucky enough to make friends with some amazing ladies. I’ve always been open and honest with them, especially about my illness and how I feel. I think in some ways my blog has helped, they can read what I’m going through without it needing to be the topic of every conversation. 

I also think it’s important to remember that friendship, just like any other relationship takes work. I realised in January I hadn’t seen two friends in far too long, so I messaged them both and said OK, lunch when? Saw one last week, will see the other next week. Make that call, keep in touch. 

I don’t mean it should feel unnatural or be an effort, but that it’s important we put in as much love and energy as we get out. It would be horrid to think after recharging me last night that my friends went home drained, but it’s a reciprocal process, we chat, we laugh, we vent, we eat and we somehow make sure we each share what we need. It’s exactly the same with my other friends. You have to really be there and you have to actively listen (call it mindful friendship time!) to nsure they know they are special and they are loved. 

The payback is priceless, you feel special and loved too 💙